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Unit 7 · Topic 7.5

7.5 Multiple narrators and conflicting accounts

Some stories are told by more than one narrator. Each narrator may know things the others don't, and their accounts can even contradict each other. Your job is to compare the versions and ask what the gaps and disagreements reveal about the narrators and the story's meaning.

Key terms

  • multiple narrators
  • point of view
  • frame story
  • contradictory accounts
  • limited knowledge

Why use more than one narrator?

A single narrator gives you one view. Several narrators give you several, and the story's meaning often lies in how they fit together or clash. Multiple narrators can fill in knowledge one narrator lacks, show the same event from opposite sides, or leave you unable to decide which version is true.

Frame stories are a common version. An outer narrator passes along a story told by someone else, who may in turn quote another speaker. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein nests three narrators: the explorer Walton writes letters containing Victor Frankenstein's story, which contains the creature's own account. Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights passes most of its story through the housekeeper Nelly Dean to the tenant Lockwood.

Famous examples you can name

Some well-known works built on conflicting accounts are still under copyright, or are read in English in copyrighted translations, so you'll see them named here but not quoted. Ryūnosuke Akutagawa's story "In a Grove" (1922) gives several contradictory testimonies about a killing, including one from the dead man speaking through a medium, and never says which is true. William Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily" (1930) is told by an unnamed "we," the voice of a whole town. Faulkner's novel As I Lay Dying (1930) switches among fifteen narrators.

How to compare accounts

  • Who knows what? List what each narrator saw and what they only heard about.
  • Where do they agree? Shared details are probably reliable.
  • Where do they disagree? Ask what each narrator gains from their version.
  • What does no one say? A gap that all narrators leave open is often the story's central mystery.
  • Why this order? The account you read last often has the most power to reshape the others.

Don't forget the outer narrator

In a frame story, the narrator who passes the story along has a perspective too. Walton, the explorer in Frankenstein, is an ambitious man who admires Victor, so he may be inclined to accept Victor's version of events. Lockwood in Wuthering Heights is a stranger who misjudges almost everyone. Ask how the person relaying the story might shape it, even if they mostly just listen.

What the disagreement means

Don't treat conflicting accounts as a puzzle with one right answer. Sometimes the point is that truth depends on perspective, or that people tell stories to protect themselves. A good essay explains what the contradictions reveal: about the narrators, about the community, or about how hard it is to know what really happened.

Worked examples

Try each one yourself first, then open the solution.

  1. Example 1

    Comparing two accounts of one event

    Practice passage (written for this practice set). Narrator 1, the shopkeeper: "The boy came in, looked around nervously, and slipped out without paying for the bread. I've seen his kind before." Narrator 2, the boy's sister: "My brother left money on the counter by the door, like always, because Mr. Hale never looks up from his newspaper. He came home shaking because Mr. Hale had shouted after him." Explain what the conflicting accounts suggest.

    Show the solution
    1. Step 1: List what each narrator actually saw. The shopkeeper saw the boy leave; he says nothing about the counter. The sister wasn't there; she reports what her brother told her.
    2. Step 2: Find the conflict: did the boy pay or not? Neither account can settle it completely.
    3. Step 3: Look for bias: "I've seen his kind before" shows the shopkeeper judged the boy before anything happened. The sister naturally trusts her brother.
    4. Step 4: Say what the disagreement reveals rather than picking a winner.

    Answer: Sample answer: The two accounts don't settle whether the boy paid, but they do show how a judgment gets made. The shopkeeper's version rests on what he expected ("I've seen his kind before") rather than on anything he checked, while the sister's version, though secondhand, supplies a concrete detail he never mentions: the money on the counter by the door. Placed side by side, the accounts suggest that the real subject is not the bread but prejudice, and how a person in authority can turn suspicion into fact.

Common mistakes

  • Trying to decide which narrator is "right" when the story deliberately leaves it open.
  • Forgetting to ask what each narrator has at stake in their version.
  • Treating secondhand reports as eyewitness accounts. Check how each narrator knows what they know.

On the exam

  • Multiple-choice questions may ask how a second narrator's account changes your view of the first, or what a detail reveals about a narrator's limited knowledge.
  • In essays, explaining why accounts conflict, not just that they do, is the kind of complexity that can earn the sophistication point.

Connected topics

Videos

  • "What is a Narrator?": A Literary Guide for English Students and Teachers

    OSU School of Writing, Literature and FilmWatch on YouTube (opens in a new tab)

  • First person vs. Second person vs. Third person - Rebekah Bergman

    TED-EdWatch on YouTube (opens in a new tab)

  • "What is a Frame Story?": A Literary Guide for English Students and Teachers

    OSU School of Writing, Literature and FilmWatch on YouTube (opens in a new tab)

  • Frankenstein, Part 2: Crash Course Literature 206

    CrashCourseWatch on YouTube (opens in a new tab)

  • Frankenstein Part 2: The Narrative Structure of Frankenstein

    ShmoopWatch on YouTube (opens in a new tab)

Check yourself

4 questions on 7.5 Multiple narrators and conflicting accounts. Pick an answer to see if you got it, and why.

Paragraph 1
In compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth that my friend never knew such a personage; and that he only conjectured that if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me to death with some exasperating reminiscence of him as long and as tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it succeeded.
Paragraph 2
I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the dilapidated tavern in the decayed mining camp of Angel's, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up, and gave me good day. I told him that a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smiley—Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, a young minister of the Gospel, who he had heard was at one time resident of Angel's Camp. I added that if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would feel under many obligations to him.
Paragraph 3
Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his chair, and then sat down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he never changed his voice from the gentle flowing key to which he tuned his initial sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm; but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnestness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, so far from his imagining that there was anything ridiculous or funny about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter, and admired its two heroes as men of transcendent genius in 'finesse.' I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him once.
Paragraph 4
“Rev. Leonidas W. H'm, Reverend Le—well, there was a feller here, once by the name of Jim Smiley, in the winter of '49—or maybe it was the spring of '50—I don't recollect exactly, somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume warn't finished when he first come to the camp; but anyway, he was the curiousest man about always betting on anything that turned up you ever see, if he could get anybody to bet on the other side; and if he couldn't he'd change sides. Any way that suited the other man would suit HIM—any way just so's he got a bet, he was satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there couldn't be no solit'ry thing mentioned but that feller'd offer to bet on it, and take ary side you please, as I was just telling you. If there was a horse-race, you'd find him flush or you'd find him busted at the end of it; if there was a dog-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a cat-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a chicken-fight, he'd bet on it; why, if there was two birds setting on a fence, he would bet you which one would fly first; or if there was a camp-meeting, he would be there reg'lar to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged to be the best exhorter about here, and so he was too, and a good man. If he even see a straddle-bug start to go anywheres, he would bet you how long it would take him to get to—to wherever he was going to, and if you took him up, he would foller that straddle-bug to Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road. Lots of the boys here has seen that Smiley, and can tell you about him. Why, it never made no difference to him—he'd bet on any thing—the dangdest feller. Parson Walker's wife laid very sick once, for a good while, and it seemed as if they warn't going to save her; but one morning he come in, and Smiley up and asked him how she was, and he said she was considerable better—thank the Lord for his inf'nite mercy—and coming on so smart that with the blessing of Prov'dence she'd get well yet; and Smiley, before he thought, says, 'Well, I'll resk two-and-a-half she don't anyway.'
Paragraph 5
[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got up to see what was wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, he said: “Just set where you are, stranger, and rest easy—I ain't going to be gone a second.”
Paragraph 6
But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and so I started away.
Paragraph 7
At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he buttonholed me and recommenced:
Paragraph 8
“Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn't have no tail, only just a short stump like a bannanner, and—”
Paragraph 9
However, lacking both time and inclination, I did not wait to hear about the afflicted cow, but took my leave.

Mark Twain, "The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County" (1865), as printed in Sketches New and Old (1875). The opening (paragraphs 1–4, ending with the start of Simon Wheeler's tale) and the ending (paragraphs 5–9); the rest of Wheeler's long tale about Jim Smiley is left out between them.

Question 1 of 4

The passage is structured as a frame story in which

Question 2 of 4

In paragraph 1, the narrator’s “lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth” suggests that

Question 3 of 4

The contrast between the language of paragraphs 1–3 and the language of paragraph 4 chiefly serves to

Question 4 of 4

According to paragraph 3, Wheeler differs from the narrator in that Wheeler

0 of 4 answered